


Lessons in Rule Breaking

by Anika_Ann



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, F/M, Finding Nemo (2003) References, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Meet-Cute, Movie Night, Museums, One of These Anyway, Reader-Insert, Rule Breaking, Smithsonian, Steve Is Catching up with the World, Strangers to Lovers, get-together, with Pop Culture Too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-15 07:10:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16058090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anika_Ann/pseuds/Anika_Ann
Summary: As a college student, you have a part-time job – you work at the counter desk in Smithsonian museum in the still relatively new exposition. The Captain America’s one.You knew you could get in trouble when breaking the no-newcomers-after-30-minutes-before-the-closing-time rule, but you sure didn’t expect the trouble to look like this.





	1. Chapter 1

You were bored. Enormously. The clock was telling you there was still twenty minutes until the closing time and that time was always filled with boredom – half an hour ago, impressive crowds  were still flooding the Captain America’s exhibition as if it was The Independence Days aka Cap’s birthday. Now, with the well-known rule of not letting any newcomers in less than 30 minutes before closing time, the counter desk was painfully empty. Hence the boredom and the idle hands.

As far as you heard, idle hands were the devil’s tools and maybe it was the truth – but here in Smithsonian, there weren’t many things for the devil to operate with. Sure, you could go to another level for a different exhibition and mix some captions to artefacts, but that seemed like too much work and with how crowded the space was, it was next to impossible. Another option was to pull the fire alarm, but you weren’t that much of a punk.

So, most of the time, you settled with watching people around you – unlike when the insane number of people was flowing in and if you hadn’t had an ID shoved into your face allowing a children discount, you wouldn’t have known if a kid was coming, an adult, a man, a woman, a farmer, the freaking president or Captain America himself. You weren’t proud of that, but… well. You made up for that in the free time in the evening.

There was a kid with a backpack with Captain America’s shield on it, watching what could be his brother in his father’s arms as he was holding the kid up right next to the panel showing Captain’s transformation from the skinny boy to a walking rock. Very cute rock. Anyway, in the corner, an incredibly bored-looking girl was pulling her mother’s sleeve, impatient to get out, perhaps looking forward seeing a cartoon instead of a war museum exhibit. There was a guy rolling his eyes at his girlfriend, who was standing by the display of authentic outfits (and mannequins, the source of the man’s annoyance, if you could take a guess), making heart eyes the Captain’s figure; you couldn’t hold back a giggle and looked away.

Which was exactly when you noticed the pair on the different side of the gate, outside of the space of exhibition. It was a woman with a boy and he couldn’t be older than six years old. He would have been cute, a ginger with several freckles on his nose and cheeks, looking like he would have dimples when smiling, but he wasn’t exactly in a mood. In fact, he seemed wrecked. Glassy tears were rolling down from his huge eyes and he sniffed from time to time. His mum was trying to comfort him, herself wearing a helpless expression.

Alright, you were leaving your post right now. Perhaps it was the devil’s handiwork indeed, maybe it was none of your business, whatever the kid was crying for. But it was breaking your heart. You approached them rapidly, and being just few steps from them, you could see the mum pointing at a sign – the sign that was telling them that they could no longer enter the exhibition. _Ah, damn._

“Can I help you?” you asked politely, the woman’s gaze immediately snapping at you, a bit startled. She eyed your nametag.

“No, no thank you,” she brushed you off, apologetic smile on her lips. The kid sniffed again.

“Alright. If you’re sure…”

You backed off quickly, spinning on your heels and mentally slapping yourself. Why did you come to them again?

“But mommy-“

“No, Jamie, sweetheart. We’re late, we spent too much time in the park. We’ll have to come here another time-“ the woman explained patiently, her voice gentle but firm. You bit your lip but started walking. Rules. There were _rules_.

“But you said we’re coming home in the morning! I’ll never see Captain America,” he sobbed and your heart sank. They must have been tourists.

But nope. No exceptions. You would do it once and then it would become a standard. Not to mention you could also get freaking fired for it— well, probably not fired, just punished, but _still._ Rules.

“We do, honey. We’ll have to come-“

“But you promised!”

Yeah, that was enough. You turned to them again and squatted to the kid. He frowned at you, his lower lip trembling. Oh boy, now you were lost to him.

“There are rules that need to be followed,” you said quietly and the kid sobbed again. The mother looked at you, caught between apologetic and angry about you moralizing her kid. You quickly continued. “But, we have one more rule here that not many people know. Can you keep a secret?”

The boy seemed intrigued enough, which was good. You eyed the woman; she was watching you in anticipation, probably ready to report you for harassment, but curious about what your play was.

The kid nodded.

“Good. I’ll tell you, but I’m gonna ask you a question first, okay?” Another nod. “Who’s Captain America?”

“A hero!” the kid replied immediately, his eyes lighting up with a spark of excitement. You couldn’t help but smile.

“And why is he a hero?”

“Because he’s strong! And he has the shield! I have a Frisbee like him! He’s the best superhero!”

You bit the inside of your cheek at the idea of what the big hero would think about his shield being compared to a Frisbee – it certainly wasn’t the first time you heard this, but it never failed to amuse you.

“Really? That’s great. But do you know why he’s a real hero?”

The boy seemed thoughtful for a second before he measured you with wide eyes, clueless.

“Because,” you whispered, leaning closer to him conspiratorially, “he has a good heart and he’s helping people.”

The kid was in awe. The mum stared at you, still unsure of what you would do.

“Now the secret – we have one more rule here. If someone has enough strength to open the ticket barrier, he can come in even if there is only 20 minutes left.” Jamie’s eyes widened, his mouth falling open. “But, he can’t only open it for himself. He needs to be of good heart and let someone else in. Do you think you can do that? Are you good?”

The kid immediately nodded in agreement, taking his mum’s hand. You smiled at him and looked at the woman hesitantly. Did you just screw up?

“Can you really let us in?” she asked you lowly when you levelled yourself with her. You just nodded wordlessly. You would have to put in someone’s year pass, but it would work.

The boy practically pulled his mum to the ticket barrier, impatient. He tried to push before you even took your place by the computer. The barrier didn’t move, of course. You mentally grinned at his confused expression and quickly entered a pass. He tried again, an amazed smile on his lips as he went through. Being on the other side, he pulled so his mum could get in too. He had an extremely focused expression on his face and he was too cute for his own good. The way he lighted up when the woman got in was simply priceless.

“Mom! I’m strong and good like Captain America!” he exclaimed enthusiastically and the woman patted his head lovingly.

“Yes, sweetheart. Now, let’s thank the nice lady-“

“Thank you!”

“You’re welcome. Now go to see your hero,” you whispered encouragingly, anxious to get them moving. You were suddenly worried that your interaction might attract someone’s curious eye. You prayed it hadn’t.

The mother shot you one more grateful look and let her son to drag her away. You went to throw the tickets away to destroy the evidence, picking few more on your way – why did people throw these on the floor when the trashcan was like three meters away?

"That was really nice of you."

"Crap!” you cursed, jumping out of your skin at the fright. Someone had seen you let the kid in. Definitely. Oh _shit_. You quickly spun to the male voice. “I— please don't report me. I’m-“

You froze when you saw the man who had witnessed your offence, recognizing him immediately despite his baseball cap and casual stance.

_“OH CRAP."_

"You seem to swear a lot though," he noted, the smile on his lips amused, cheeky even.

Captain America was a cheeky man. Who would have guessed? Not you, that was for sure. You slowly let the impossible fact of Steve Rogers being here sink in. It was not an easy task, your mind kept screaming ‘holy shit, Captain America is here and talking to me’, but that was not the main problem – the rule-breaking was. Captain America caught you breaking a rule. You were so fired.

"Well, someone who is not just _anyone_ , caught me breaking a rule that is written in huge-a-“ you closed you mouth before another curse could leave you mouth, remembering his… teasing? “-huge letters so everyone could see. The American symbol of righteousness did, actually. I count myself entitled."

You were honestly proud of yourself for saying so many sentences without a stutter despite freaking out.

His smile turned a bit bashful, the amused spark remaining in his eyes only. Really? He was self-conscious? And now? _Wow._ Did he notice his face was all over the walls? The entire exposition was about him for god’s sake.

"I won't report you. I told you – I think it was really nice of you."

You hesitantly smiled back, still unsure. "Uhm... okay."

And then you did something you were excellent at. You spun on your heels and returned behind the counter, pretending you didn’t exist. You didn’t even say goodbye; yet, you would swear that when was Steven Grant Rogers disappearing behind a corner, he glanced at you over his shoulder.

The moment you couldn’t see him anymore, you let your elbows hit the counter desk and your head fell into your palms with a whine.

You had talked to Captain America. He had been ridiculously nice despite – or because – of what he had seen you doing. And you ran away. You were such an idiot.

\---

To say that you forgot about the incident before it was time to kick people out would be a big fat lie – mainly because it had been only ten of minutes. It was time to close the exposition for visitors. The guards always took care of people, reminding them that it was time to go and by eight o’clock, the last individuals were leaving so you could close the gate. Today was your turn to check on the space once more as the guards were switching shifts and so you rose to your feet to perform your duty as your sort-of-friend Mia waved you goodbye.

Usually, there were no ‘left-overs’ as you called people who somehow managed to escape the security and stayed in. But naturally, with being your turn today had to be an exception.

You slowly approached the man standing by Sergeant Barnes’ panel, realizing who he was within several feet distance. You stopped dead in your tracks, unsure what do to.

What would anyone else do when finding Captain America standing by his dead best friend’s panel after clock? ‘Cause you sure as hell had no clue. You nervously bit your lip, continuing your way with no plan.

You stopped two steps from him, opening your mouth and no words came out. You closed it again, clearing your throat.

“Captain Rogers, uhm…“

He glanced at you, seemingly surprised, as if he only acknowledged you now, when you were standing at arm’s length – well, his anyway. His blue eyes measured you, a bit confused until he looked around only to see no one else was here. How the hell did the guard miss him? Or did he leave him here? Should you do the same?

"Sorry, I'm leaving," he whispered with a forced smile, sparing one more glance at the board. You did the same, your eyes landing on the date of birth of the soldier. Your heart sank. _Oh_. It was suddenly very clear whether you should leave Captain alone here or not; it was the anniversary of his best friend’s birthday.

"You don't... you don't have to,” you blurted out hastily, waving it off in a wannabe casual gesture. He tilted his head, confused. “I need to do some… administrative stuff anyway. Take your moment."

"Really? Bending the rules again?" he asked, the teasing coming out much less challenging than he probably intended. You shrugged.

"Only if it's okay with the Star Spangled Man."

He lowered his gaze to the floor, but a tiny grateful smile played on his lips. "It is. Thank you."

"It's nothing."

"It's a lot. And... my name is Steve."

He peeked at you from under his _unnaturally_ long eyelashes, his eyes saying more than his words or tone. You felt your heart jump nervously, blood rushing to your cheeks. He actually extended his hand for you to shake. His hand was freaking huge – yet, it closed around yours rather gently despite being able to crush your bones to dust or something.

"Nice to meet you… Steve. It's an honour." One corner of his lips rose higher at the note and you just wished to disappear into thin air before you would turn into a puddle of lovesick jello with rapidly beating heart. You took your leave hastily, whispering over your shoulder. “Take your time.”

It was only few minutes later when you were dully staring into the computer screen at the counter that you realized you hadn’t even introduced yourself to the man you apparently had a crush on – you were fucking working at his exhibition, how did you missed that? You whimpered silently and resisted urge to bang your forehead against the desk.

Almost thirty minutes later, you really needed to leave and kick Capt— _Steve_ out. You really, really didn’t want to do that. You had secretly hoped he would pass your desk during  ‘administrative stuff’ time, but he hadn’t.

Approaching him by the very same board you had left him at, you felt like a monster.

“Lots of memories?” you tried out, minding to whisper so you wouldn’t startled him like the last time.

“Yeah, more than I can count. Mostly the good ones though. He saved me from getting beat to pulp multiple times. Often dragged me out to dance, because he met a new girl and she was generous enough to bring a friend – not that she was interested in a guy who was barely reaching her shoulders,” he hummed, remembering his pre-serum times probably. There was nothing malicious or envious in his words. He seemed melancholic. “Bucky was a true ladies man.”

You couldn’t help but grin – sure, with _Bucky’s_ looks and him being excellent at about everything, you could imagine. But it was a little different, hearing it from Captain America himself.

“Was he now?”

“Oh yes. The first time a beautiful woman looked at me rather than at him, he said he was living a nightmare becoming me.”

“He didn’t,” you whispered incredulously, silencing the giggle that wanted to escape your lips. Damn, some best friend he was; you were sure Bucky only had been teasing and it felt to casual, so _normal_ , just two friends making fun of each other. It wasn’t exactly easy to imagine that.

 Steve glanced at you with a corner of his eye. “He did.”

“That’s mean. What did you say?”

His smile grew wider. “Not to be sore about it, because she sure had a friend.”

You burst out laughing, feeling like Mr. Righteous suddenly stepped into a column of light that made him someone completely else. Cheeky. Mischievous. Friendly in the most common way. _Human_. Just a guy. _Just a kid from Brooklyn._

“I take it I really need to leave now,” he noted, his hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans as if he truly was a regular guy walking down the street. Unbelievable.

“Depends,” you hummed, not sure where that came from. “You have more fun facts like this to share? Or not funny ones, just interesting?”

He tilted his head curiously, examining you, trying to figure out whether you were serious.

“You won’t get into trouble?”

You shrugged. “I don’t think so.”

“In that case, I actually do. Follow me, madam.”

An hour later, your cheeks hurt, your tear ducts were probably dried up completely and your head was full of so many new information it should hurt, but instead, it was just buzzing pleasantly. Also, you were sure you had a heart condition, because that constant flutter could not be healthy. You were tired, yet, you found yourself being disappointed that the special tour was ending.

"Okay, now I feel really sorry we don't do guided tours. I would be so popular..." you exclaimed, rewarded by a grin from Steve.

"It's a thing to consider. You should offer it to your boss."

You let out probably very unattractive snort. "Sure. _And why would we wanna do that, miss?_ Because Captain America took me on a tour and told me very interesting details. He would probably want to run blood tests to check for drugs or something.... Thank you, Capt— Steve. I imagine it couldn't have been all easy."

"It's memories. It still... still feels more like home," he admitted and after so many rather light facts, you were reminded of just how sad his destiny was.

"I can't imagine that. Waking up after seventy years. It's..."

"Insane?" he offered, eyebrow raised.

"I was gonna say ‘lonely’, but sure, ‘insane’ works. Everything has to be so different."

"It is. The progress of technology... I mean... just phones and computers. It's… a lot."

"Yeah... I wonder how much the world would change if I fell asleep for 70 years now. Theories? More like flying cars or a huge garbage bin like in Wall-E?"

"Wall-E?" he questioned, looking a bit confused. Only then it hit you – he probably hadn’t seen it.

"Oh, right. It's an animated film set in the future. A robot named Wall-E is on Earth, searching for a sign of life, fauna, flora, anything, while the rest of humanity is on a huge spaceship. Not your typical Pixar movie. I remember seeing it as a kid and being bored out of my mind when the first twenty minutes was just the robot moving between trash and occasionally saying ‘Wall-E’. It gets better though. Still, it's pretty far from movies like Finding Nemo."

"…I don't know what that is either.”

"Dude! You gotta check out Finding Nemo!" you called out, half outraged, half excited. Then you froze. "I mean— sorry. _Jesus_ , I just called you a _dude-"_

What was wrong with you? You had had troubles to switch from Captain to _Steve_ , and now he was a _dude?_ _Talk about respect, young lady…_

But Steve just laughed at you, full-belly laugh with his head thrown backwards and it was so _normal_ and relaxed you found yourself starring incredulously and possibly a little bit in love.

"That's okay, really. You got very excited."

"It's an amazing movie! Do you... do you catch up with pop culture?" you asked, honestly curious. Seventy years’ worth of books, movies, TV series, music, theatre… _wow_. You couldn’t imagine that.

"I'm trying," he admitted, pulling out a small notebook and a pen. For a split second, you thought he was gonna give you his phone number, which was ridiculous of course. He wrote something down, smiling. "Now I have other tips.” Now that made more sense. “Do they still play that?"

"Yeeeah... no. Not by a long shot. You can always downlo— how does Captain America feel about downloading stuff from the internet? I mean..."

"That's like... putting it into your computer without paying a single dollar, right?" he asked, just to be sure. It was cute.

"Yep. Which I don't do _. At all."_

His laugh was more subtle this time, but his eyes were locked with yours, causing you butterflies, so there was that. "Well, Captain America is very disappointed in you. Steve understands."

"Thanks, Steve. Is it offensive to say that it somehow matters to me more?"

"Not really."

His eyes shined and his smile was wrapping you in a soft warm blanket and you knew that if there was something you definitely didn’t want, it was saying goodbye and never seeing this man again. In flesh, that was, the exhibition didn’t count. Your mind raced.

"...I just got the craziest idea."

"If at first, the idea is not absurd, then there is no hope for it,” he quoted god knew who. You assumed it was a quote, not that you wanted to underestimate this wonderful man. “Hit me with it."

You gulped nervously. This was as terrible idea as it was an amazing one.

"There are old slide projectors in here, sure... but there are digital projectors too. If you... if you wanted to... have a cinema-like atmosphere, I can download the movie for you to watch it here,” you offered reluctantly, carefully observing his reaction. “Hell, we have a microwave in personal’s, I can even make popcorn!”

He blinked at you, the shiny baby-blues baffled.

“Or not. It's a silly idea-"

"No!” he protested quickly, smiling reassuringly at you. “It's... it sounds really nice. Do you think the guards would be... okay with that? You did mean after closing time, right?"

Did he just say yes?

"Yeah, of course! And yes, I mean... it would be for Captain America. How could they say no?"

His cheeks seemed to flush – but that must have been the lighting only, right? Captain America was not freaking _blushing_. Though he did look a bit timid. "You would really do that?"

"Sure. I mean... I can try."

"Alright — but only if it's not too much trouble. I wouldn't want you to have problems with your employer," he said sincerely, his eyes locked with yours again. _Christ_ , was he trying to give you a heart attack?

“ ’kay,” you breathed, completely lost. What was your name again?

“If I give you my phone number, will you text me when you would have time?”

It was official; you had died and went to heaven. An incredibly attractive man was standing in front of you practically offering you his phone number and it might have been purely friendly, but still. Oh. My. God.

“Yep.”

_Really? ‘Yep’?_

He pulled out the notebook again, tearing one page and writing down the digits. You forgot how to breathe. This was really happening. He handed you the paper with a shy smile and whispered ‘here you go.’ When he added your name, you were about to swoon.

He wrote down not only the number, but his name too. You found it adorable, chuckling at that.

“You think I’m carrying lots of phone numbers in my pockets, Steve?” you teased him about it a little and he seemed confused at first, until something that was not a flirtatious smile for sure settled on his lips.

“Wouldn’t surprise me.”

Your breath caught in your throat, some inner voice screaming at you not to interpret it in a wrong way. Steve was a very nice person, that was a fact. He probably didn’t even realize how that sounded. Yeah, that was it.

You laughed it off. “Sure. Thanks, Steve, I’ll let you know. Hopefully, you won’t be busy _.” Alright, backpedal, backpedal._ “Thank you for the special tour, Captain.”

“You’re very welcome, _ma’am,”_ he saluted and you chuckled silently. Who was this guy? Did you imagine this? Were you high? Maybe you really needed the blood tests… “Have a good night— you need a ride?”

You almost choked on your own spit. _BACKPEDAL._

Oh yes, you could use a ride. Whatever that meant. You smiled awkwardly. “Uhm… no thank you. Goodnight, Steve.”

He returned the goodbye with a tiny smile.

You held the delighted shriek inside until five minutes passed since the door had closed behind him.

You were in so much trouble.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Life got super-ultra-busy and all kinds of crazy with starting new college and stuff, but I wanted to share this little (cute?) thing with you before falling off the radar for god knows how long. I promise you one more part before that happens though. 
> 
> Every comment and kudos means the world, so thank you if you leave it. Love you all, but especially ‘my loyal ones’ who put up with me for a while now. Thank you.
> 
> P.S. Holy cow, the teaser for Daredevil, Let the freaking Devil Out, I swear I was holding back a squeak – the chills!!


	2. Chapter 2

You hated yourself, you really did. It wasn’t the fact that you couldn’t have held on a little longer and you had texted Steve the very next day in the morning, unable to follow some basic rules of socializing, just to let him know when you could possibly arrange the movie theatre thing. It wasn’t even that you had done puppy eyes at everyone you had been trying to convince to tolerate the project. That was all okay.

You hated yourself for the burning sting of disappointment that had come when Steve hadn’t texted back. You had been sitting by your phone like a super-excited nag for three days and you had been getting sadder with each hour with no response.

Now you were just annoyed. It was ridiculous and you were unbearably stupid. Of course he wouldn’t text back. What had you been thinking? Chances were he had even given you a fake number, no matter how genuine he had seemed when talking to you – he was probably used to that kind of interaction and he hadn’t wanted to be rude in person, trying to maintain some sort of an image; even when being so casual you would have believed he was just a kid from Brooklyn. He had been nice and you had trusted him. _Stupid, stupid-_

“Oh god, I’m such an ass,” you murmured and went to continue on your pizza from the place on the corner of your street – you had it delivered despite the fact you could have just walked for five minutes and get it yourself. You were pathetic.

You stared at the rest of your food, losing the last remains of your appetite when remembering that stupid wannabe genuine eyes.

Your phone rang. You eyed it suspiciously, wondering who was calling you – perhaps you didn’t check in with mum for too long? Possible. Someone wanted to switch shifts? More than likely.

To your shock, the ID was announcing a completely different caller. _Steve_. And just like that, you realized you weren’t pissed at yourself only, but also at him. But you were too curious about what he would have to say for you to just let the call unanswered.

Also, there was a possibility of some poor bastard, whose number Steve had given you when trying to dodge you, was calling now, confused about your text.

“Hello?” you said to the speaker unsurely, anxious about what was to come.

There was a relieved sigh on the other end. “Hi! I’m sorry, it’s Steve, I-…“

Well. Now what?

“Uhm… hi, Steve.”

“Hi,” he repeated hastily and if you weren’t angry with him and utterly disappointed, you would have found his hastiness endearing – but you were. “I… I wanted to apologize for not texting back-“

You sighed and decided to save him from his misery. “It’s okay, Steve. You don’t have to explain anything. I understand.”

You did understand pretty well. Maybe you could have said it less harshly, but you were pretty proud of yourself for just speaking with him.

“I… don’t?”

You cleared your throat and swallowed the stupid tears of humiliation that had no logical explanation.

“No, Steve. You were just trying to be nice and didn’t know how to get rid of me, I get it. I won’t bother you-“

“What?” he breathed, sounding honestly astonished. “No! I— is that what you think? I didn’t even know you texted me until five minutes ago, we left for a mission in the middle of a night and we have ‘no-phones’ policy during those, so… I’m really sorry.”

You sat on your couch, frozen, letting the information sink in. Hold on a sec. Was Steve still having missions? Was he-- it kinda made sense; he had been there for the battle of New York. And what else he would be doing? Posing for art students? Barely – he was a soldier waking up after seventy years. _Of_ _course_ he was still fighting. Probably under some super-secret organization.

Oh god.

 _“Oh god, I’m such an ass,”_ you whispered for the second time this evening, letting your head fall into your palm.

You thought he was being a dick. And had been saving the world.

“Oh my god, Steve, I’m so sorry.”

“What for?” he asked, seeming confused.

“”I… may have thought… you… lost the text?”

“That can happen?!”

You pressed your lips together. Sweet child, still learning about technology…. You cleared your throat. “It can. If you help it… disappear.”

“…oh.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry. I honestly don’t know what I was thinking. Well, I _know_ what I was thinking, obviously, but… yeah. It’s… it would be a perfectly natural response, you know, to ignore it-“

“Yeah, no,” he interrupted you, determined. “I’m sorry if I made you upset. I… if the offer still stands, I would really like to watch a movie with you.”

And just like that, your heart melted completely.

“Awww, Steve,” a new voice joined in the background. “You are so sw-“

“Go to hell, Romanov-“ Steve cut off the woman and you could heard some rustling then – did Steve try to cover the speaker?

“Ouch. I’m wounded, Rogers,” the woman continued teasing him and you bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing since you could still hear _Romanov_ clearly.

“Just— shut up. Go away.”

You could hear a laugh and then a bang, another rustle and Steve was back with you.

“Sorry 'bout that.”

You chuckled. “It’s okay, Steve. She seems like a piece of work,” you noted and heard him inhale sharply.

“…how much did you hear?”

“Not much, just about… everything?”

“I’m going to kill her. Yeah, Natasha can be a bit too much,” he mumbled and you would swear he sounded embarrassed.

“Sounds like it would be a shame to kill her. Bet she’s a keeper.”

“Wait until you meet her, you might change your mind.”

Your lips parted, your heart sent into a cardiac arrest. Holy— did he just imply he would like you and the Natasha woman meet? That he wouldn’t be against you meeting his friends/co-workers? That was… nice.

“Anyway, can I still take you upon the offer? Please?”

Oh god, the soft timid ‘please’ was enough to erase the past few days. You were such a goner.

“Yeah. Yeah, you can. When do you have time? Did you pick any of the days I suggested?”

“Tomorrow?” he offered, taking you aback greatly, your stomach clenching immediately. That soon?! “Or not-“

“Yes! Tomorrow’s fine. Why wait, right?”

“Exactly,” he breathed, relieved. “I much rather meet with you soon so they can’t call me away again before I do. So…”

Your heart just swelled. You needed to stop reading more into all this.

 “…tomorrow. After eight. Looking forward to it, Steve.” _Too much, ALERT, too much!_

“Me too,” he replied and you would swear you could hear a smile in his voice.

“You got it bad, Rogers,” came then and you covered your mouth with your palm to muffle the giggle on your lips.

_“For god’s sake, Natasha!”_

“Goodnight, Steve,” you whispered.

“Night. See you tomorrow,” he whispered back softly. “You’re dead, Romanov!”

“Steve, you need to press the red button to actually end the call,” she teased him and then you heard a _growl_ and you were cut off.

You burst out into a maniacal laughter and squeezed you phone tighter.

Alright, time to stop sulking. You had a movie to download.

\---

Mia knew someone was coming over and since you had a deal with the guards, she didn’t question it – she let you check out the exhibit after closing time, grateful she didn’t have to do it, and left with a suggestive wink. You rolled your eyes and pretended you didn’t blush.

Steve arrived ten minutes after eight, wearing his perfect disguise in a form of a baseball cap, finding you at the desk. Seeing him again – a tiny smile settled on his lips and bright eyes smiling at you as well –, you scolded yourself for thinking he had been trying to avoid you.

“Hey. Welcome to Smithsonian cinema. How can I help you?” you greeted him, not sure where it came from. Steve smiled wider.

“Heard you were playing a great movie tonight. Couldn’t resist. Plus, I‘ve been promised popcorn and… some pleasant company. I can see I came to the right place,” he started rather confidently, turning bashful in the end.

How the hell could you resist and not read anything into it when he talked like that?

“Oh— oh yes. Come in. I’ll get the popcorn.”

“Thanks. How much for it?

“About two hours of your time, Captain,” you told him the price, rising from your seat. “That okay?”

One corner of his lips rose higher. “More than okay. And for the company? That would actually call me my first name?”

You lowered your gaze, wondering if you were crossing a line. “Smile is enough, Steve.”

You were glad you had some time for yourself during preparing the popcorn – you needed to calm down. Your palms were awkwardly sweaty, your throat was dry and your heart was beating like crazy.

_Calm down. Just two not-even-friends hanging out. Nothing more. Sure, you’re doing a service to your country by educating national hero in pop culture, but you have literally no reason to be nervous, because it’s not like you have make him LIKE like you. That’s not gonna happen. Loosen up._

By the time you started the movie and handed Steve the popcorn he had insisted he had to share with you, you convinced yourself it was the truth. And within ten minutes through the movie, you got comfortable enough to make a note to the plot, your body getting on with the program of two not romantically involved people sitting in an empty movie theatre. And you had fun. Steve seemed to appreciate the notes, a laugh escaping him from time to time and it was amazing.

When the end titles started rolling down, you turned to Steve, finding him already watching you instead of the screen. He smiled and you smiled back as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

"That's it. You've been educated," you announced, rising from your seat and making your way to the projector. He followed your lead.

"Thank you. It's has been… very enlightening."

You stopped dead in your tracks. “Oh. Was I rambling too much? I was, wasn’t I?”

Steve shook his head, still smiling, and his eyes shined even in the dim light of the computer you were turning off.

“No. I appreciated it. Like I said – very enlightening,” he whispered softly, his gaze locked with yours, effectively sending your heart racing again. 

"Oh. That's great! If you find a movie you think definitely deserves to be watched in somewhat cinema quality, I think we can manage to arrange this again.”

“I’d really like that.”

“ ‘kay.”

You were _so_ glad when you got out from the theatre, though it wasn’t like the lightning was less intimate in the common space of the museum at night. Steve walked by your side to the counter desk where you had your stuff.

“Uhm… next Thursday works?” he asked, sounding quite hopeful and you couldn’t help but grin. _He really liked it!_

“Yeah, sure. It’s a date,” you blurted out, realizing only a second later how it sounded. “I mean like— did you use to say that back in the day? I meant like ‘it’s a deal’, I didn’t-- didn’t mean like _date_ date!”

Did he really just lower his gaze, stuffing one of his hands into the back pocket of his jeans as if he was _nervous?_ Hey, you were the nervous one around here! You rather picked your backpack before you could interpret something in a wrong way. Again.

“Oh. That’s… that’s a shame,” he mumbled, peeking at you through his eyelashes. Your lips parted in shock as you stared at his shy smile.

“...what? You— you would-- you would like it to be… a date?”

“Or not. Wouldn’t want to make uncomfortable.”

Did Steve just ask you out? Did… Captain freaking America asked you on a date? What the hell was wrong with him? Why on Earth would the original hero want to go on a date with _you?_ Of course you would say yes, you wanted to shout it from a rooftop – or maybe just here really, the sound would echo greatly here – but… seriously?

“…not the word I would use,” you choked out finally, after what felt like forever. Though you were entitled – Captain America was asking you out. Come again?

Hesitant smile appeared on his lips, his eyes twinkling. “So… next Thursday? And it’s a date? Maybe with a dinner before of afterwards? Steve here is asking.”

Was he a mind-reader too?

“Yes, Steve. It’s— it’s a date.”

He examined your face closely, looking as if he was trying to crack a very difficult puzzle. Then he leaned in quickly and placed a light kiss on your left cheek.

“Wonderful. Goodnight.”

You blinked in surprise, unable to let out a word or move. Steve disappeared behind a corner abruptly and suddenly the weight of what just happened hit you with full force. You had a date. With this amazing specimen, who was not just incredibly attractive, but also very sweet.

You couldn’t hold it anymore. You giggled. You giggled like a schoolgirl. You couldn’t believe it. _A date_. _With Steve._ You giggled to your palm again and then threw your hands it the air, spinning around, consumed by the euphoria sparkling in every cell of your body.

“Maybe I should take you dancing instead,” you heard someone call out and you yelped, stopping abruptly and turning to the source. Steve was leaning against the wall of the very same corner he had disappeared behind, his arms crossed on his chest and slightly amused smile on his lips.

“What are you doing here?!” you whisper-yelled after him, your face red as a lobster. It was probably pointless to hope he hadn’t seen your embarrassing schoolgirl moment. Oh god.

He bounced off of the wall, confident in his steps as he walked to you – you were too frozen to run away and hide somewhere you could die of embarrassment in private.

“I realized I haven’t offered you a ride home. I wouldn’t want you to wander the streets at night alone.”

“I always do that,” you shrieked, escaping his intense gaze. His brows furrowed.

“Well, I’d like to change that. At least for tonight. I kept you longer than you are usually staying, right?”

“…yes. But it was a pleasure, really.”

His hand tentatively rose to your face, cupping your cheek. You couldn’t breathe as his head – which meant his lips, his _lips_ were right here, unfairly kissable – bowed to yours, his gaze focused on your face as if nothing else existed.

“It was. Would you let me take you home so I can be sure you got there safe?” he pleaded lowly and you couldn’t help it – your gaze flickered to his lips again, because goddammit, _so close_ and so soft; you would know now, the ghost of their touch was still burning on your cheek.

You weren’t sure how it had happened, but you were nodding. You couldn’t form one coherent thought beside ‘Steve is touching me and his mouth is dangerously close to mine’. And the said mouth just spread in a wide smile.

“Thank you.”

You had no idea what he was thanking you for, only being able to perceive that his hand slid much lower, taking your own and leading you out.

Steve was no wuss; he didn’t bother sneaking out in secret even when he was in the museum long after the closing time. He led you right through the main reception, where you met with Stan-the-guard’s wide-eyed gaze – he gave you a thumbs-up. Your face got even redder if possible, but you smiled at him shakily.

When outside, you found out that Steve’s definition of safe was a little bit different from yours, but if the man was offering you a ride on his bike, you were not about to say no. When he smoothed your hair before helping you to get the helmet on, you were about to melt, climbing beside him without him even asking you to do so.

“Hold on to me tight,” he whispered over his shoulder, readjusting your hold on his firm body. Honestly, if something would happen, you would die happy, because touching the firm muscles on his torso when dying seemed like a good way to go. But if you survived, you might touch it some more, so that was a motivation right there.

“Oh, I will.”

_Trust me, Steve, I will._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s it, folks :) Thanks a lot for reading and/or kudos!
> 
> Falling off the radar now, I guess. We’ll see how long that will last since I have few notes for ‘Hands Too Cold’ and I really don’t want to bury Verdevil forever either ;)


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